140 bricks

All it took was one look. Obviously, since I drove all the way to San Francisco for this car, I had to follow through and buy it, but I didn't expect to fall for her quite so hard. A 1968 Volvo 142S, shabby, dirty, and very, very sexy, with a smooth running engine and manual trans. I had to install a new clutch cable to get her rolling under her own power, she leaks water and oil, her steering is extremely loose, and two of the brake calipers seem to be stuck (hence, only two functioning brakes); but I am ecstatic. Driving her is a kind of beater-car thrill I haven't really experienced since high school. Every clunk and thud she utters over bumps or around corners, the smell of oily exhaust and the tired-engine growl in the rusty tailpipe reminds me of those wild days in Washington with loose fenders, broken stereos and muddy fields. This is a wonderful thing.

Her name is FAYE VALENTINE